“Because you ought not to say a wild beast, but a wily beast.”
“And what is a wily beast, Mocquet?”
“It is an animal that only goes about at night; that is, an animal that creeps into the pigeon-houses and kills the pigeons, like the pole-cat, or into the chicken-houses, to kill the chickens, like the fox; or into the folds, to kill the sheep, like the wolf; it means an animal which is cunning and deceitful, in short, a wily beast.”
It was impossible to find anything to say after such a logical definition as this.—My father, therefore, remained silent, and Mocquet, feeling that he had gained a victory, continued to call wild beasts, wily beasts, utterly unable to understand my father’s obstinacy in continuing to call wily beasts, wild beasts.
So now you understand why, when my father asked him what else he had done, Mocquet answered, “I did what I do when I want to catch a wily beast.”
We have interrupted the conversation to give this explanation; but as there was no need of explanation between my father and Mocquet, they had gone on talking, you must understand, without any such break.
VI
“And what is it you do, Mocquet, when you want to catch this animal of yours?” asked my father.
“I set a trarp, General.” Mocquet always called a trap a trarp.
“Do you mean to tell me you have set a trap to catch Mother Durand?”